Part 9

There was a pause.

“Do you have documents?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain they’re genuine records?”

“They came from the shared company files and corporate registry.”

“Have you sent them to anyone?”

“No.”

“Good.

Don’t alter the originals, and don’t sign anything else.”

I looked toward the closed front door.

“Miriam, there’s something else.”

“What?”

“I think a former business partner’s signature was forged on a withdrawal agreement.”

She went quiet.

Then she asked me to send her everything through a secure channel.

I spent the next hour organizing the files.

The original investment agreement.

The property records.

The holding company declaration.

The wire transfers.

The Julian Vance withdrawal agreement.

The network access logs.

I sent everything.

Miriam called back shortly afterward.

Her voice was calm, but the questions were precise.

“Clare, I need you to understand something.”

“All right.”

“What you’ve shown me raises serious concerns about the movement of assets and the validity of certain documents.”

I closed my eyes.

“Can I get my money back?”

“I can’t promise you an outcome before reviewing the full records.”

“I understand.”

“But you need to protect yourself immediately.”

She told me not to sign anything, not to delete anything, and not to let Ethan or Vanessa take possession of my records.

She also advised me to contact the financial institutions involved and formally dispute any unauthorized transactions connected to my investment.

I wrote everything down.

For the next several hours, I made calls.

Some conversations were short.

Others required explanations, reference numbers, and copies of documents.

I learned that several transactions would need further investigation.

I also learned that the transfer of the brownstone could not simply be reversed by making a phone call.

The legal process would take time.

I was prepared for that.

What I was not prepared for was the next message.

It came from Vanessa.

Vanessa: Ethan says you’re upset.

Please don’t do anything irrational.

I stared at the screen.

Another message appeared.

Vanessa: You don’t want to embarrass everyone over a misunderstanding.

I read it twice.

Then I typed a reply.

Me: You took my wedding car and wore my reception dress.

Now I know you took much more than that.

I sent it.

Her typing indicator appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally, she replied.

Vanessa: You have no idea what you’re talking about.

I looked at the financial records on my desk.

For the first time, I believed her.

She had no idea how much I knew.

And she had no idea how far I was prepared to go.

By early afternoon, Miriam had reviewed the first batch of documents.

She called me while I was sitting beside the apartment window.

“Clare, I’ve looked at the records you sent.”

I straightened.

“What do you think?”

“There are several issues that need independent verification.”

“Such as?”

“The holding company structure, the movement of your investment, and the withdrawal agreement involving Julian Vance.”

I looked at the document on my screen.

“Do you think his signature was forged?”

“I think the signature deserves examination by an independent specialist.”

“And the network records?”

“They are relevant, but they aren’t conclusive by themselves.”

I nodded.

I appreciated that she wasn’t promising me something she couldn’t guarantee.

“What should I do now?”

“Preserve everything.

We should begin the formal process of challenging the transactions and requesting the records necessary to establish who authorized them.”

“Can we stop them from moving anything else?”

“We can seek urgent protective measures.

I want to review the property records and the company’s original agreements before deciding exactly what to request.”

I looked at the clock.

It was nearly three.

The wedding was scheduled for eight-thirty.

“There’s something else,” I said.